


Every Mistake Gets Caught On Tape

by frith_in_thorns



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, everyday life or death situations, fits into canon, space is dangerous, w359bb17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 13:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13167894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frith_in_thorns/pseuds/frith_in_thorns
Summary: Minkowski is unimpressed with Hera showing interest in astronomy, since based on their track record everything in space is trying to kill them. Especially comets. She should also probably be getting more sleep, because mistakes get made otherwise.Also featuring useful jobs, pining for regulation dress, delicate wiring, and unacceptable levels of perforation.





	Every Mistake Gets Caught On Tape

**Author's Note:**

> (Set sometime ambiguously within the first half of season 4)
> 
> This is my entry for the Wolf 359 Big Bang. I was partnered with the lovely [@starnoirs](http://starnoirs.tumblr.com/), who made the gorgeous art below. Thank you so much!

"Guys!" Hera exclaimed, excitedly. "Guess what?" Her chirpy voice echoed through the tight space of the maintenance tube.

"What?" Minkowski asked, tiredly. She took her hands away from the engine mechanisms she was checking, belatedly recognising that the tone of the question meant it was all but guaranteed to be distracting rather than helpful.

"Come on, that's not a guess."

"There's coffee in that nebula?" Eiffel chipped in, confirming Minkowski's suspicion that Hera had opened up the whole comms network.

"What nebula?" Lovelace asked.

"Nope, no nebula," Hera said. "And you've still got plenty of coffee in the stores, that's not exciting."

"Please don't keep us in suspense," Minkowski said. She had slept too badly for mandatory excitement. "Some of us are doing actual work."

"Well, you are," Hera said. "Eiffel and Lovelace are playing pictionary."

"Why're you ratting us out?" Eiffel complained.

Hera breezed over him while Minkowski was still rolling her eyes. " _Anyway,_ I've picked up something on my long-range sensors. A comet!" She paused expectantly.

"Is it going to crash into us?" Lovelace asked, beating Minkowski to the sensible question.

"No."

"Well, you seem pretty excited about it."

"It's a comet previously unknown to science," Hera stressed. "And that's pretty cool, right?"

"Sure," Minkowski said. She went back to examining the steering components.

"I think it's cool," Eiffel said, loyally. "So is it heading this way?"

"Yes, actually," Hera said. "The tail should pass really close to us. Also, I get to name it!"

There was a brief, baffled silence. 

"You do?" Lovelace asked.

"Yes!" Hera's cheerfulness was beginning to sound a bit forced, without the participation she'd clearly been expecting. "All the comets which go past Earth get to be named after the astronomer who discovered them, right? Well, I discovered this one."

"Does it really count when you have long range sensors —"

Eiffel cut in over Lovelace. "I think Hera's being perfectly reasonable. It's definitely her comet."

" _Thank_ you, Officer Eiffel."

"Some people around here are just jealous that they don't get to have comets named after them."

"Yes," Lovelace drawled. "That's exactly what I am. Jealous."

"You don't need to be so negative," Hera said, primly.

"I'm not being _negative_ —"

Minkowski groaned, her patience finally breaking. "I'm thrilled we've had this little ship-wide meeting to name Hera's Comet, but unless anyone's get anything actually important to argue about, can we wrap it up? I'm inside some delicate systems right now and I'd appreciate being able to concentrate."

"Yes, Lieutenant," Hera said. She sounded only very slightly chastised. "That was all, really. Oh, you'll see Hera's Comet in about two days." She paused. "Huh, that sounds weird in third-person."

Minkowski sighed pointedly.

"I'll leave you to it," Hera added quickly, and muted the comms.

* * *

Two days later found Eiffel uncharacteristically hanging around the bridge, getting in the way as he tried to find Hera's Comet with his naked eyes. He propelled himself from window to window, Hera encouraging him to find the best view.

"We could lock you in the observation deck with the prisoners," Minkowski suggested, after some time of this. "You'll have a good view from there."

"What about if you moved the prisoners for the duration —" Hera began. "I'm joking!" she insisted hurriedly, as Minkowski drew breath.

Lovelace laughed. "Relax, Minkowski," she said. "Let the kids have their fun."

Minkowski rolled her eyes. "Am I really the only person on this station who doesn't think playing tag with a comet tail is particularly fun?"

"Sometimes you really do need to chill a bit," Lovelace said. She pressed a firm hand against Minkowski's shoulder, steering her towards a window. "I know you haven't exactly had a great three years up here, but think about why you wanted so badly to go to space. It's _cool_ , remember?"

The Hephaestus rotated a fraction. Minkowski had been looking out into the usual starfield (and Lovelace was right, it was jarring to think about how mundane this was to her now), but the station's movement brought a pale slash, vivid against the black of deep space. Fracturing at the edges, it stretched towards the star.

Minkowski caught her breath. For a moment she forgot everything else. "It's beautiful," she murmured.

Eiffel peered over her shoulder. "Woah," he said. "Hera, that's a nice comet you found."

"Thank you," Hera said.

"Are we gonna get a closer look?"

"Only the best seats in the house for you guys," Hera said. "The comet's on a tight elliptical orbit around the star — it'll swing round the side and we'll meet up with it in… four hours and twenty-eight minutes. I'll do some nifty steering to take us as close as possible, while maintaining safety parameters of course, don't give me that look Lieutenant."

Minkowski, for once, didn't rise to the bait. She was still marvelling at the view. 

"Can we get magnification?" Lovelace asked.

"Sure," Hera said. "I'll pull it up on the screen."

Lovelace and Eiffel moved over to look, but Minkowski remained where she was. Lovelace was right — it felt like a long time since she had really _looked_ out over the incredible place they were in. Since she had thought about why she had been so desperate to join the Hephaestus mission in the first place.

She had once been a little girl _dreaming_ of sights like this.

"Hey, Commander, aren't you joining us?" Eiffel asked.

"In a minute," Minkowski said. She could feel herself smiling.

She only really noticed the shudder that ran through the station when it was repeated. Then again, after a pause.

"Hera, what was that?" Lovelace asked.

"Um, give me a second," Hera said. She sounded… strained.

The three of them exchanged looks. "Am I the only one worried?" Eiffel asked, in a whisper.

"Officer Eiffel, I can still hear you," Hera snapped.

"Eiffel, shut up," Minkowski ordered.

He opened his mouth, and was met by a very stern glare from Lovelace. He closed his mouth again.

The sight of the starfield through the window had lost its majesty again. Now, as so often, it was simply ominous.

"So, we might have a very small problem," Hera said. If she had been corporeal it sounded like she would have been shuffling her feet and refusing to make eye contact.

Lovelace sighed. "Of _course_ we do. What's gone wrong?"

"The steering," Hera said. "I'm unable to connect to it."

"You're having trouble steering?" Eiffel asked.

"No, I'm having trouble seeing that steering exists at all. I'm _doing_ exactly zero steering right now."

"That sounds bad," Eiffel said.

"It does, doesn't it?" Hera agreed, unhappily. "And currently we're on an intercept trajectory with the comet. I'd planned to begin course adjustments… well, now."

Minkowski took a moment for a couple of deep breaths. This was fine, this was a perfectly normal day-to-day crisis — she was _so tired_ of them. "So. What do we need to fix?"

"I don't exactly know," Hera said. "I just know that I suddenly can't connect to any of my steering functions. It could be in engineering, or in the actual steering controls, or anywhere. You'll have to find it for me."

"In four and a half hours, before we crash into your comet, we have to locate and fix a totally unknown fault?" Lovelace asked. "Just to confirm."

"Yes, that's about it," Hera agreed, unhappily.

Lovelace sighed. "Well, let's get to it. I'll take engineering. Minkowski, you take steering control. Hera's right, those are the two most likely areas for a malfunction. Eiffel —" she paused — "Keep an eye on the comet."

"You could at least pretend to give me a useful job," Eiffel complained.

"That would take too long and we're on a deadline. Hop to it, people."

* * *

"Everything looks fine here," Lovelace said, over comms. "So far, anyway."

Minkowski sighed to herself. She could have done with an easy answer. Something they could quickly fix. "I'm still looking," she said.

"Take your time," Lovelace said. "Within reason."

Good advice. She'd rather not rush and mess up, and —

Her heart seemed to stutter.

She'd found the problem. Several pieces of the delicate wiring around the steering mechanism had fused together, melted by an electrical overload. "I found it," she said. "Damn, this is bad."

"How bad?"

"There's no way we'll get it fixed before we intercept the comet bad."

Lovelace groaned expressively. "Is there _anything_ you can do?"

"I don't know, give me a couple of minutes." She followed the lines carefully backwards, searching for the fault.

There.

It was _obvious_. The wrong type of capacitor, one guaranteed to cause the sort of catastrophic overload which had clearly happened.

Which she'd wired in herself, two days ago.

"Goddammit!" She struck out with her arm furiously into empty air. "Goddammit, goddammit…"

"Minkowski?"

She hit out with her arm again, desperate to bleed off some of her helpless fury at herself. This time, though, the Hephaestus rolled again, and she tried to abruptly abort the motion as the space she was punching into became not-empty. She pulled her arm back, and it was sliced perfectly through by the sharp, thin edge of a circuit board.

"Minkowski?"

"Oh, you are kidding me," she whispered, abruptly breathless. She stared into the pale slice scored from elbow to palm of her right forearm. The skin gaped, bizarrely bloodless for a brief instant she knew wouldn't last.

She didn't have _time_ for this.

She wriggled backwards, using her left hand to push her along. She felt shocked; numb. When the engineering bay opened up around her she hung in place, only then looking back down at her arm.

There was already more than enough blood. It was dark red, welling up fast and bulging out of the wound, still attached to her arm by surface tension.

"Minkowski, what the hell just — oh my god." Lovelace materialised in front of her. "Crap, that's bleeding a lot. It can't be — no, not fast enough for arterial. Still. Shit." She looked round, distraught, while Minkowski was still feeling numbly that she should be _doing something_ , but had no idea what. Vivid red droplets were beginning to detach themselves.

"Hera, get the power on in the med bay and tell Eiffel to hunt the first aid kit," Lovelace said. She looked around once more, then pulled off her teeshirt and wadded it against Minkowski's arm. The wavering balloon of blood broke against it immediately, soaking into the cloth. She guided Minkowski's left hand to clamp it in place. "Keep pressure on that, okay? I think you've sliced at least one big vein, so you need to stay with me. Hold on, and it'll be okay."

Minkowski dug her fingers into the damp cloth. "It's not too bad," she ground out. Clearly it _was_ bad, but not worth everyone risking valuable time over.

"Don't be an idiot," Lovelace said, and towed her.

Eiffel was in the med bay before they were. "Hera said Minkowski cut her arm —" he began, and then blanched. "Oh. Yes."

"Helpful comments only," Lovelace ordered. She pried Minkowski's fingers loose and pulled her ruined teeshirt away.

Eiffel turned white. 

Oddly, that helped Minkowski pull herself together. Okay, she felt dizzy and sick, but if anyone was going to _actually_ faint, it wasn't going to be her.

"Right," Lovelace said. "You need stitches, really, but we're on a clock here. And I've never actually put stitches in anyone myself."

"Just wrap it up," Minkowski said. Her voice sounded rough, but not measurably weaker than usual. "We can sort it out properly later."

"That's our motto," Lovelace quipped. She glanced over at Eiffel and rolled her eyes. "Seriously, haven't you seen worse? Don't just stare at her, go find some fluids to get down her. Mix up a load of that isotonic powder crap Maxwell liked."

Minkowski felt she shouldn't just be hovering while everyone bustled around her, but her efforts to help Lovelace wrap dressings, gauze, and what felt like several kilometres of bandage around her arm were not appreciated. She finally obeyed the third exasperated command to _just stay still_. Lovelace found a triangular bandage and made an elevated sling, one that pinned Minkowski's arm tight across her chest with her hand on her collarbone, allowing no possibility of movement.

Eiffel came back at that point, peering cautiously around the door first. "Oh good," he said, in considerable relief. "No more blood."

"She's lost more than enough," Lovelace said, and pressed one of the drink containers Eiffel was juggling into Minkowski's left hand, along with painkillers. "Drink that. I don't suppose you found what happened to our steering?"

Minkowski sucked down a large gulp of the vile-tasting sports mix. Actually, at that moment it tasted pretty good, which she supposed meant that she really needed it. "Overload, melted half the circuitry," she said, tacitly. 

"Is it salvageable?"

She shook her head. "Have to tear them out and replace them all. Not quick."

"Damn, so much for that." Minkowski waited for Lovelace to ask what had caused the overload, but she had already moved on. "So, Hera, any bright ideas?"

"Mmm, that depends on how desperate you're feeling," Hera said.

"I don't really feel like being splatted against your comet," Eiffel said. "I mean, any option sounds preferable to that."

"You can manually aim the Hephaestus's propulsion jets," Hera said.

They all digested that. "What, from inside the station?" Lovelace asked.

"Um, no. You'd have to be on the hull."

"Fine," Lovelace said. "Eiffel, get ready to suit up with me."

"Uh, _what_?" Eiffel exploded. "Aren't you even going to ask for my opinion on this crazy dangerous plan first?"

"We don't have the time to waste arguing about this when there's no other option," Lovelace said. "There _is_ no other option, is there, Hera?"

"Not that I can think of," Hera said, apologetically.

"Okay. So the longer we leave it, the more grit and ice we'll have pelting us when we do go out there."

"I'll get up to the bridge and have the adjustment calculations ready for you," Minkowski said. She paused. "Uh, Captain, you realise you're…"

"Not wearing a shirt? Yes, it's hard to miss how Eiffel's desperately trying not to look at me," Lovelace said, dryly. "You must be feeling better if you're pining for regulation dress. Hera, keep an eye on her, okay?"

"No, I was actually planning on turning off all my bridge monitoring equipment," Hera said tartly. "And not to rush you, but your window of opportunity is closing _fast_."

"We're going," Lovelace said. "Right, Eiffel?"

"Right," Eiffel agreed somewhat gloomily.

Abandoned in the med lab, Minkowski took a few deep breaths.

"How are you feeling, Lieutenant?" Hera asked, anxiously.

"Fine," Minkowski said, grimly. Certainly better than a few minutes ago. One of the distinct advantages of zero-g, from a losing-lots-of-blood perspective, was that however you were orientated you might as well be lying down, as far as your body was concerned. "I'd better get up to the bridge."

She got there while — Hera informed her — Lovelace and Eiffel were still suiting up. She booted up the systems she needed.

"You know, I can handle all the calculations and relaying them myself," Hera said. "You don't really have to be here."

"Yes, I do."

"Why, because you're feeling guilty about frying my steering pathways?"

Minkowski froze. "You… know?" she asked.

"I figured it out," Hera said. "I _am_ a supercomputer. Also, I figured you wouldn't have been that angry if it had been anyone else's fault."

Minkowski remained quite still. "Did you tell the others?"

"No. Do you want me to?"

"No!" She tried to catch her instinctive response, too late. "I mean — I'm not trying to _hide_ it. I just — not while we're in the middle of a crisis."

"That's okay," Hera said. "You know, they will understand."

"Can we change the subject, please?" Minkowski asked. 

"Sorry," Hera said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't. I'm fine." Minkowski stared out of the viewing window, trying to ignore the throbbing ache in her arm. She couldn't see the comet yet — they were at the wrong angle. The star was just a blue glow in the corner of the glass.

Eiffel's comm came online with an announcing buzz. "Ground control, Major Tom here. We're both set to go."

Minkowski pulled herself together. "Good," she said. "Head around to the aft section. You've got safety tethers as well as mag boots?"

"Roger that," Lovelace said. "We're not eager to get slapped off the hull by chunks of ice."

"Check in when you reach your destination," Minkowski said. 

"You got it," Eiffel said. "Hera, are we getting any in-flight entertainment today?"

"No, it's entertain yourself day," Hera said. "I'm busy with a few minor and definitely not life-or-death calculations, so I might have to concentrate a bit."

"Opening the airlock now," Lovelace said. "I hope both of you are ready to actually focus on the task at hand instead of being sarcastic at each other."

"I'm a multi-tasker," Eiffel said, airily. "Speaking of which, when we saw Hera's Comet before, why was it flying tail-first? Isn't that the wrong way round?"

Minkowski rolled her eyes. Eiffel couldn't see it, but the benefit was for her. "Eiffel, didn't you do _any_ background reading before you took an assignment in _outer space_?"

"When you ask me questions like that, are you looking for reassurance or honesty?"

Lovelace groaned. "Comets start melting when they're near a star. The tail is the melty bit. They melt from the warmest end, which is nearest the star, so that's why the tail points that way. Enough heavy science for you?"

"That's cool," Eiffel said. He did actually sound pleased, although the jury was out on whether it was because he had genuinely leaned an interesting fact he'd missed in Grade 4, or because he had succeeded in thoroughly exasperating everyone else.

"We're here," Lovelace said. "Minkowski, ready for those adjustment vectors."

"Hera's going to give you them," Minkowski said. "She's got all the data."

"Lieutenant, I didn't mean to suggest that you wouldn't be capable," Hera said, quietly. Minkowski trusted that she was speaking only to her.

"I know," she said, tiredly. "But it makes sense. Go ahead."

With nothing useful to do, she drifted back to the window. She positioned herself as close to the edge as possible, but couldn't force her viewfield to include her crew members. Or the approaching comet.

"These things are —" Eiffel paused to take breaths every couple of words — "clearly not made to be — moved by hand."

"Shut up and it'll be easier," Lovelace panted.

"I'm just — providing updates — for Hera."

"I can feel what you're doing," Hera said. "And, like, five more degrees to the left?"

"Oh yeah — I'll get out my — protractor —"

"Eiffel, _shut up._ Hera, how's that?"

"A bit more," Hera said. "No, back a bit. No, wait, the other way. Okay! Stop!"

"What should we —"

"Get out of the way and brace so I can fire these thrusters!"

It was _killing_ her not to be able to see what was going on. Minkowski curled her left hand into a fist, fingernails digging into her palm. The Hephaestus rocked as the propulsion jets fired briefly, and the starfield out of her window tilted. "Lovelace, Eiffel, are you okay?" she demanded.

"We're fine," Lovelace said. 

Eiffel whistled in the background. "Wooooo, that was… something."

"Did it work?" Lovelace asked.

"I think so," Hera said. "Give me a moment." 

They all waited.

"Well," Hera said. "That mostly worked, so yay."

"Mostly?" Minkowski said, sharply.

"The comet's not going to hit us," Hera said. "You two need to get back inside, though, because some of the tail still is." 

"How long have we got?" Lovelace asked.

"…Not long."

"You heard her, start moving," Minkowski ordered.

"Already are," Lovelace said, her voice tight. Then: "Oh, god. I can see — There's no time."

"Just get to cover!" Hera's voice was faster, glitchy with her panic. "Any cover, quickly!"

Minkowski wanted to shout for someone to tell her exactly what was happening, but Lovelace and Eiffel couldn't afford for her to be a distraction. She could only wait, _useless_. 

The Hephaestus shuddered with multiple impact. Pale chunks of debris slammed against the window, making her recoil, shocked. Booms echoed through the station from hits to the hull. The Hephaestus tilted, and then began to spin. 

"Hera…" Minkowski ground out.

"Working on it," Hera snapped.

The lights went out. The window was a pale blur as it continued to tumble, flashing briefly blue as it turned towards Wolf 359 and away again. Something hit Minkowski in the back, knocking the breath out of her, and then she was tumbling too, bumping and knocking against walls and consoles like a sock in a washing machine. Her injured arm bashed against something and she screamed, brief and discordant before she could clamp her jaw shut. 

"Lieutenant?" Hera called, shot through with static. "I'm sorry, I'm trying — just —"

She couldn't reply, too busy bracing for the next impact coming out of the dark. And the next, and —

Her internal gyroscope told her they were finally stabilising. Minkowski ran her fingers along the nearest surface, found something she could hold on to, and clung to it for all her worth. 

A whirring told her the power grid was coming back online, and the bridge lights snapped on a second later. Minkowski kept her fingers wrapped tightly around her handhold and gasped, feeling like she'd been holding her breath for hours. 

"Lieutenant?" Hera asked, anxiously.

"Yeah." She forced herself to sit up, slowly, and reluctantly relinquished her hold on what turned out to have been the leg of a chair bolted before a console. "I might throw up, but I'm fine. Eiffel? Lovelace?"

No answer.

"Eiffel! Lovelace! Come in!"

"I've got their life-signs," Hera said, anxiously. "They're both still on the hull, and —"

There was a deep groan over the comms. "Wow. That was _not_ fun."

"Captain?" Minkowski said. "I — are you okay?"

"I'll let you know," Lovelace said. "Eiffel's unconscious. Well… I hope."

"His vitals are steady," Hera said. 

Lovelace's shaky exhale filled the channel with static. "Okay, so that's one good thing."

"Can you get inside?" Minkowski asked.

"There's no way I'm going anywhere until this ice storm's over."

Minkowski listened carefully, and could hear a rain-rattle on the hull. "What's it like out there?" she asked, fearful of the answer.

"Like hailstones with the kinetic energy of bullets," Lovelace said.

Minkowski went cold. "You haven't been —"

"No!" Lovelace assured her. "No, our suits are fine. We're pinned under one of the solar panels, out of the worst. We're just not going anywhere until the weather improves.

"How long will that be, Hera?" Minkowski asked.

"Hard to say," Hera admitted."My priority is keeping Eiffel and Lovelace sheltered. If I do an engine burn to get us through the tail faster they'll be exposed to unacceptable levels of… perforation."

Minkowski digested this. "And how wide is your comet's tail?"

"That's not really the issue," Hera said. "We haven't headed straight through it so much as… converged. Temporarily."

"So you're saying we're stuck inside the tail?" Lovelace demanded.

"Not _stuck_. That implies much more…stuckness… than is actually the case."

Lovelace snorted.

"Also, don't think I haven't noticed how all of you have been implying I'm responsible for the comet."

"Obviously we don't think that," Minkowski said.

"Definitely," Lovelace said. "I mean, despite you claiming it as yours, we absolutely don't mean to imply that it is."

Hera huffed. "If you'll both _excuse me_ , I've got some _quite important_ things to take care of. Like continuing to keep us all from _dying_."

She had a particular quality of withdrawing completely that Minkowski had learned to recognise. "I think she's really annoyed," she said.

Lovelace sighed heavily. "I'm cranky," she said. "This solar panel isn't exactly the most comfortable place I've ever been wedged. Come to think of it, I really hope it's still actually intact."

Minkowski shuddered. "Yeah. Did you see — How bad a beating did the Hephaestus take?"

"I'm not sure," Lovelace said. "I was running for cover as fast as my mag boots would let me, while dragging Eiffel along by his tether." She paused. "Is everything okay in there?"

"The bridge is fine," Minkowski said. "I can't speak for anywhere else yet."

"We really need to track down what fried the steering," Lovelace said. "Find out whether it's going to happen to any other systems."

"I wouldn't worry about that happening," Minkowski hedged.

"Why, did you figure it out?"

"Yes," Minkowski said. She really wished that she were the sort of person who told lies, but she was no good at it. "I'll tell you when you're back inside."

"It's not like I've got anything better to do, is it?"

She couldn't do it.

She couldn't own up.

Lovelace, of course, noticed her silence. "Minkowski?"

"I…"

"Minkowski, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Minkowski said. Although that wasn't so true anymore. Now she felt sick. 

"I'm not an idiot."

Lovelace waited. Outside, hiding from the deadly hail. And it was all _her fault_. All of it.

"It was me," she said. Her throat had constricted; it was hard to get the words out. "My fault. I messed up and fried the circuits."

Lovelace was silent for several long seconds. "How long have you known?"

"Since right before I freaked out and accidentally punched a sharp bit of the station with my arm."

"Okay," Lovelace said. "I guess that's an understandable reaction."

There was some more silence. Minkowski couldn't take it. "Well?" she demanded. "Aren't you going to yell at me?"

Lovelace sighed. "Minkowski, we all make mistakes," she said.

That was worse, actually. "Stop it," Minkowski said.

"Stop what?"

"Stop being so dammed reasonable."

"Do you _want_ me to yell at you?"

Minkowski wanted, abruptly, to scream. She closed her eyes for a moment in pure frustration. "I'm going back to steering control," she said. "I'll start replacing the wiring."

"I thought we all agreed it would take too long?" Lovelace said.

"It'll take longer if I don't start now."

"Are you just trying to get out of this conversation?"

"It's a vital system," Minkowski insisted. "We can't afford to have it offline a moment longer than necessary. I'm wasting time by hanging around the bridge, doing nothing."

Lovelace sighed. Now she sounded frustrated too. "Fine. Knock yourself out. I'll comms you."

"Great," Minkowski snapped, not sure whether Lovelace was still listening.

"Do you want my opinion?" Hera asked.

"I absolutely do not."

* * *

She didn't keep track of time. But it was an interminable amount of it later that her comm finally buzzed.

"Minkowski?" Lovelace said. "I think Eiffel's coming round. Hey, Eiffel? Can you hear me?"

Minkowski froze, and held her breath.

"Officer Eiffel?" Hera asked, anxiously.

"Okay, his eyes are open," Lovelace said. "Eiffel, c'mon, open that big mouth of yours and reassure Minkowski."

There was a groan.

"Doug?" Minkowski asked. "That you?"

Another groan. "I guess," Eiffel said, very unenthusiastically. 

"Are you okay?" Hera asked.

"Fine," Eiffel sighed. "Having a fantastic day. Just wonderful."

"I think you'll find it's the same for everyone," Lovelace said, dryly.

Minkowski cracked an unwilling smile. "It's good to hear your voice," she said.

"Were you worried about me?"

"Only a tiny bit, don't flatter yourself." The banter was easy and automatic as her fingers teased out more wires in their melted casings. It prevented her thinking at any higher level, which was what she needed.

"But you _were_ worried, right?"

Lovelace sighed loudly. "You've been on this station for _three years_ , how are you still this desperate for validation? I'd have thought Minkowski would have driven it out of you in the first couple of months."

"I can detect the insincerity in both of your attempts to rebuff me," Eiffel said. "You can't fool a people person."

"Keep telling yourself that," Lovelace said. "Changing the subject to actually important matters — Minkowski, how's it going?"

"Slow," Minkowski said. "It's delicate work."

"Hang on, what are you doing?" Eiffel said. "I thought you were just supposed to be monitoring from the bridge?"

"No, she got bored and decided to squeeze back into the engines to replace the burned-out wiring," Lovelace said.

"Oh," Eiffel said. "I thought that would be incredibly difficult with only one working hand and also not possible to finish within a helpful timeframe? Or did I mishear?"

Minkowski scowled. "It needs to be done."

"But… right now? And by you?"

"Let me know when you have a situation update," Minkowski said, and shut off the channel.

"That wasn't very polite," Hera chided her.

"Hera, go away," Minkowski said. Everything ached, and her eyes burned. 

"Uh uh, you can't just turn me off like that."

"I know I can't, but I'm asking. Please."

"Are you still upset because —"

Minkowski closed her eyes and allowed her arm to fall slack. "Stop. Just stop."

Hera gave an electronic sigh. "Okay."

Her comm buzzed. It buzzed again when she ignored it.

"Do you think you ought to get that?" Hera asked. She probably felt she was sounding tactful.

"Has anything about any of our situations changed in the last two minutes?"

"No…"

"Then no, I don't think I do. Please tell the others I need to concentrate."

She could feel Hera's disapproval. She kept her eyes closed, even though there were no cameras in where she was. Psychological hiding. Cowardly, obviously.

She switched her comm off.

* * *

Something grabbed her foot.

Minkowski started to reflexively kick before she had finished snapping awake, but she was already sliding out of the tube feet-first, unrestrained, because whoever had grabbed her had quite sensibly given a hard enough yank to get her moving and then let go. She muzzily recovered just in time to brace with her soles against the opposite wall.

When she got herself turned around, Lovelace was waiting for her. "Hi," she said.

"You're inside," Minkowski said, stupidly. "Is Eiffel — Did we —"

"Eiffel's fine," Lovelace said. "And we finally got out of Hera's comet tail."

"How?"

"Painfully slowly. Our orbits finally diverged on their own."

"So basically everything I've been doing here was a complete waste of time."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Lovelace said. "You got a good long nap, which you clearly needed."

"How long?"

"About… four hours."

Minkowski cringed. "Why didn't anyone wake me up?"

"Hera did try," Lovelace said. "If you hadn't turned off your comm I'd have joined her. We were _worried_."

"I didn't realise I was asleep," Minkowski said. "Ugh. That sounded dumb. I mean…"

"Like I said, you probably needed it. You did recently lose a load of blood, remember?"

"Yeah, I guess." Minkowski sighed tiredly. "I'd just like not to have been completely useless today. Not even counting how this current disaster is entirely my fault."

"On the bright side?" Lovelace suggested. "You now probably have some valuable insights to help you put yourself in Officer Eiffel's shoes."

Minkowski laughed — she couldn't help it. "Where _is_ Eiffel? Is he really okay?"

"He's got a lump on the side of his head and is probably missing a few more brain cells, but yes, he really is okay," Lovelace reassured her. "He's in his quarters, tucked up in bed with some nice painkillers." She quirked an eyebrow. "Ready to get the same treatment?"

She was sorely tempted to say yes, but her pride wouldn't let her. "I should finish up…"

Lovelace breathed very deliberately in, and out. "Minkowski. I get that you're feeling messed up right now, but _come the hell on._ You are absolutely not in a fit state to be playing with delicate systems, and if you keep insisting that you are then I _will_ yell at you." She paused. "Wait. Are you still _trying_ to get me to yell at you?"

"No," Minkowski insisted. 

"I mean, seriously, will it make you feel better?"

Minkowski groaned. "You can drop it now."

"Nope," Lovelace said. "Now that it's been brought up, I _do_ have a bit of yelling to do. For putting yourself at risk by not making a sensible assessment of your limits. You were just unconscious in that maintenance tube, among live wiring that could have fried you if there had been a rogue discharge, with your comm switched off because you didn't want to hear us tell you that you were being idiotic. Understand?"

Minkowski sighed. She wished she could argue, but Lovelace was all too correct. "You're right, Sir," she said. "I'm sorry." She sighed again. "I really am."

"Good," Lovelace said, with some satisfaction. "Now come on. We'll finish up here tomorrow. In the meantime, I dumped a load of first aid stuff into your quarters after I finished dealing with Eiffel. Now that the emergency's over, I want to make sure you're okay."

"Fine," Minkowski said, resigned, and followed her.

After just a few metres of propelling herself along with one hand, she was out of breath and her head was beginning to spin. She automatically set herself to endure, and then came to her senses. "Lovelace?" she called.

Lovelace looked back down the length of corridor, and did a double-take at how far ahead she was. "You okay?" she asked, already beginning to head back.

"I'm not feeling so great," Minkowski admitted. "I could use a hand."

"No problem," Lovelace said. "Yeah, you look pretty pale. Put your arm around my shoulders and I'll tow you."

Minkowski did so. It was comfortable, even with Lovelace's cloud of hair tickling her face. "Sorry," she said.

Lovelace sighed deeply. "You were doing so well, and then you ruined it. Don't apologise right after getting brownie points for actually asking for help."

"Okay, okay, I retract it," Minkowski said. "How about, thank you?"

"Better," Lovelace conceded.

As Lovelace had said, one of the large first-aid kits was indeed floating just inside Minkowski's quarters. She batted it out of the way as it tried to block the entrance. "I know you're about to start messing with my arm, so I'd quite like it if you let me have the painkillers first," she said.

"Good priorities." Lovelace scrounged up a blister pack of pills and another already-mixed energy drink.

Minkowski groaned at the latter. "Really?"

"If you want the nice painkillers, you have to have the nice electrolytes and rehydration stuff too."

"Very scientific," Minkowski said, but at least it was much better than seaweed coffee substitute.

She tried to hold in her grimace as Lovelace undid the sling and revealed that blood had soaked right through the current bandages. And into her shirt, _wonderful_. At least, when Lovelace peeled the whole mess off and exposed the actual cut it no longer seemed to be actively bleeding — it just looked jagged and dark, and beginning to clot damply.

"You're going to have one hell of a scar, I'm afraid," Lovelace said, apologetically. "I'd still rather not have this as my first experience of stitching up an actual person, though, unless you _really_ want me to."

"I think it's an experience we can both live without," Minkowski said, dryly. "I don't mind a scar."

Lovelace looked at her narrowly. "As long as that attitude doesn't come with a side-attitude of it being some kind of penance."

"How about a reminder of the consequences of being an idiot?"

Lovelace cracked a grin. "Well, that seems fair enough. Hold still, I didn't clean it out properly before, this is going to sting."

 _Sting_ wasn't quite how Minkowski would have described the sensation of her arm being liberally flooded with disinfectant. She moaned, but stayed mostly still.

"That's the hard part over," Lovelace said. "Now I just need to wrap you up again."

"Go for it." The painkillers were starting to kick in; things were going slightly fuzzy around the edges. She didn't offer any resistance as Lovelace pulled her arm around to get better angles to wrap the bandage. Nor when Lovelace peeled the bloodstained shirt off her and helped her into nightwear instead.

"Get plenty of rest," Lovelace said. "I know how many shifts you've been pulling recently. Only one of us is an alien clone who barely needs sleep, and it's not you. You can't do your job properly if you're exhausted. You'll make mistakes."

"Like burning out the steering," Minkowski said.

"Exactly like that," Lovelace agreed.

"You didn't say anything like this earlier."

Lovelace sighed. "What, when you were doubling down on pushing past your limits? I decided to wait until you were in a state of mind to agree with me."

"Sensible," Minkowski said. It was a good strategy. Just then she was mostly feeling tired and woozy and like there was no point in arguing about what she knew, after all, to be true.

"I'm a witness to that," Hera chimed in.

Minkowski smiled. "Hi, Hera. Sorry I was rude to you."

"It's okay," Hera said. "For this one time only, though. Also, I think you should go to bed before you fall asleep where you are."

"Good call," Lovelace said, and persisted in providing entirely unnecessary help to get Minkowski into her sleeping bag. "Yell if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay," Minkowski said, sleepily. "Hey, Hera?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Your comet. It was very pretty. It could have killed us and everything, but it was very pretty."

"For the last time," Hera said, exasperatedly, "I am _not responsible_ for the actions of that comet!"

"Too late, Hera," Lovelace said, "I think Minkowski's already asleep."

She wasn't, quite, but everything was too heavy to move.

"Besides," Lovelace continued, opening the door, "You _were_ pretty possessive over it. A comet is for life, not just for Christmas."

"Fine, we'll name the next one after you, see how you like it."

Minkowski didn't hear much of the argument after that, but enough to know that it was continuing all the way down the hall.


End file.
